Wish Upon a Star
by KelliP
Summary: She wants a baby, the image of her tiny little girl cradled in her arms all too clear in her mind, but there's not even a ring on her finger.


**A/N:** Thank you to those who convinced me to keep going.

* * *

**WISH UPON A STAR**

* * *

Her hair is a knotted bird-nest. The gown she wears is baggy and creased. Her cheeks are flushed a light pink, her skin covered with thin layer of drying sweat. Her mind is boggled, the hormones confusing and tiring. She's far past exhausted, but the adrenaline shooting through her veins keeps her awake. She's oh so unattractive right now, but she doesn't care in the slightest. All she cares about is the tiny person cradled in her arms.

She hugs the small body close to her chest, providing warmth and comfort to them both. A pair of steely grey-blue eyes stare up at her, not quite in focus, yet intense all the same. It sends a shot of absolute love straight to her heart, so completely different to anything she's ever felt before. It's overwhelming, fierce. Protective. An absolute adoration for her daughter bundled up close.

Warm lips press a gentle kiss to her temple, and a hand on the opposite side of her body squeezes her shoulder gently. With a herculean effort, Beckett draws her eyes away from the sweet girl to peer up a Castle. From his spot beside her on the hospital bed, he beams, a proud parent. She smiles her response, finally _knowing_ how this- being responsible for someone else, caring for this tiny little creature- feels.

She couldn't have dreamt it better if she'd tried.

* * *

Beckett startles awake, eyes flying open when her phone chirps suddenly, loud and interrupting to her sleep. Her eyes take no time to adjust to the room, the sun not yet peeking through the blinds, but it takes longer than a few moments to clamp down on the overwhelming disappointment that her little girl is nothing more than an image from a dream. She swallows the thick lump that rises in her throat, blinks back the single tear that springs up suddenly from within.

Her phone buzzes again across the nightstand, reminding her why she's awake. It rings on incessantly, demanding attention, not stopping until she answers. She suppresses a groan in her throat, another knot tangling there, but she manages to keep silent as she fumbles for the device before it wakes Castle.

Too late. He's already shifting beside her, throwing out a sleepy hand that hits her on the arm. "Make it stop," he groans, voice rough with sleep.

With a gentle hand patting his shoulder, the other finally clasps the phone. Beckett swipes her thumb across the screen from memory and raises the cell phone to her ear.

"Beckett," she rasps when the line clicks on. She has to clap a hand over her mouth to stop the person on the other end of the line hearing the loud yawn that expands in her chest.

"Wake up call," the person on the other end of the line jokes. It's Jimmy from dispatch, the man with the unfortunate job of working the graveyard shift week in and week out just to make enough money for his family.

"Didn't order a wake up call," she throws back. Even as she speaks her eyes flutter shut, trying to grasp onto the last remnants of the girl in her dream.

No such luck.

"But your Captain did," Jimmy continues obliviously. "Sorry."

Beckett sighs and slits one eye open to glance at the clock. Four in the morning.

Excellent.

"All right," she gives in. "What's the address?"

Beckett scrawls the address onto the notepad she's made Castle keep beside the bed. Once she has all the preliminary details, she lets Jimmy go so he can wake up the rest of the team, tells him to threaten Esposito he can't be late again. Even when the phone call is disconnected, she keeps her cell in her hand. She tears the top piece of paper off the notepad, too, ready to put both items in her bag so she doesn't forget either. Before she sits up though, she twists to Castle. Her fingers brush through the hair at his temple as she bows, moving her lips low to his ear.

"Castle?" she murmurs.

He hums in awareness, but doesn't speak.

"Body drop. You coming?"

Castle shakes his head against the pillow. "Sorry. Have to write."

She leans forward to press a kiss to his lips, but he's already asleep again. Beckett sighs. The man has barely been to the precinct in a month. Every day, he shakes his head at her offer, claims he has to write. She knows his deadline for the next book is approaching- writing _is_ his job, after all- but she misses her partner. Their light banter, his humour. The remarkable ability he has to put a smile on her face even on the worst of days.

Beckett slides off the side of the mattress and plants two sleepy legs on the ground. She shuffles through her apartment, flicking on her coffee pot before dressing quietly in the bathroom so not to wake Castle. Not that she needs the coffee. Her mind is wide awake, the image of the tiny baby in her arms still haunting her every thought.

But that's all it is. An image. One her heart longs after, but an image all the same.

And with two years having passed and she and Castle are still not living together, that's all it might remain.

* * *

Her mood has completely soured by the time she parks her cruiser a block from her destination, and it's only mid-morning. The crime scene was a disaster. Nosy reports shoved cameras and microphones in her face as she'd left, uniforms didn't secure the area properly, evidence was ruined when a reckless group of teens came barrelling through the alley for a shortcut. Now, there's a possible witness who refuses to make the journey downtown to the station and talk with them.

"I have an important customer coming in this morning," the manager of the jewellery store told her over the phone. "But if you came to the store, I'd be happy to chat."

With that, the woman had clicked off the line, leaving Beckett's skin crawling with irritation. A half-hour and a slow crawl through Manhattan traffic later, she slams the door to her Dodge Charger and takes off along the sidewalk, leaving Ryan and Esposito to trail silently after the angry click of her heels lest they be snapped at. Again.

Hitting the right shop number, she all but rips the open the glass door. It shakes on its frame, the bell clanging loud instead of the usual quiet tinkle as she enters. The suddenness of the angry noise draws the attention of both employees and customers in the store alike, all turning to stare at her with expressions of disdain.

Including Castle.

Beckett startles at the sight of her boyfriend, does a double take, her mouth parting in confusion and surprise. "Castle?"

Her voice is rough and demanding. At the sound of it, the man in front of her freezes. He sports a deer-caught-in-headlights expression on his face, wide-eyed and stunned as he stares at her.

"What are you doing here?" she questions. Her tone is thick with suspicion, which she accompanies with an accusing arch of her eyebrow. "I thought you had to write?"

Still, he doesn't move.

Her eyebrow lowers, then the two knit together, a frustrated scowl now etched on her forehead. Beckett shifts her weight onto one foot, ready to take a threatening step forward when Castle opens his mouth to speak.

"Kate-"

Her name is barely a choked sound in his throat, raspy as Castle forces it past his lips. She tries to wait patiently for the remainder of his explanation, lets a few beats pass in silence, but he doesn't continue. Irritated, her face turns red. Her posture stiffens, shoulders shake with annoyance at his refusal to explain, and so she takes a demanding step toward him.

That's when he holds up his hands to stop her movement.

That's also when her eyes drop from his face to the diamond ring in his hand.

* * *

Castle slinks one hand around the crook of her elbow and swiftly leads her from the store. She follows without thinking, letting him guide her away from the prying eyes of the clerk and the boys and into an alleyway a few stores down. The ring is still in his hand, the alley dirty and far less than romantic, but her heart is pounding so hard in her chest she doesn't care. She sucks in a deep breath, tries to stop the panic coursing through her veins.

Not panic about the ring. No. She wants the next step in their relationship more than anything, and was about two weeks and another flimsy excuse away from speaking up herself. But the dream of their daughter with her ten tiny fingers and wide, curious eyes is still plaguing her mind. She wants it- their child. She wants it, bad, and as much as she hates it, Beckett isn't sure she can do _this_ if they can't have _her_.

With no idea what's going on in her mind, Castle misreads her panic. His face falls, eyes dull with a crushing disappointment. "I- I thought you'd be ready," he tries to explain.

She is. "I am," Beckett rasps. She clears her throat to steady her voice before speaking again. "I am. I just-"

She breaks off and averts her eyes to the cracked concrete beneath her feet. Castle waits in a patient silence for a long minute until he obviously can't take it any more. He curls a finger under her chin, lifts her head so she's forced to meet his gaze.

"You just _what_?" he asks quietly.

She draws in a deep breath. She has to tell him.

"I want a baby," she blurts out.

Castle doesn't even blink. "Okay."

Her muscles seize, and she freezes. "Okay?" she squeaks out in surprise.

He nods. "Okay," he repeats. "So do I."

Her breath hitches in her throat.

Castle wants a baby too.

* * *

She rolls over in bed a week later, finds Castle perched on the edge, the ring box with her diamond resting open on the pillow beside her.

She says yes.


End file.
